


A Little Push

by Asynca



Series: Ready, Set, Go! - Speed Prompts [17]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Crack, F/F, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 02:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7490274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asynca/pseuds/Asynca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ana spies on Pharah and Mercy. Speed prompt, written in 59 minutes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Push

Ana had been watching those two. Oh, yes, she had been; if her daughter thought she was going to sneak anything under the radar of the world’s best sniper, she was sorely mistaken. As Fareeha's mother, it was her duty to know everything about her love life, after all! 

She had been scoping her daughter and that Angela girl—who’d grown into quite a looker, if she did say so herself—trying to decide what she thought of the conversation they were having when there was a _whoosh_  beside to her.  

It had been a long time since she’d heard that sound, but she immediately recognised it. “You’re getting good at that,” she commented without looking away from the scope.  

Tracer's chirpy voice was full of pride. "Aww, thanks, Captain! You missed out on all the fun while I was trying to sort it all out though," she told her. "I used to mess up all the time. Once, I accidentally recalled too far and ended up duplicating myself. I'm not kidding: there were two of me!" 

Ana gave her a wry smile. "Heaven forbid." 

Tracer laughed good-naturedly. "Winston was so confused. Anyway—" There was a _whoosh_  on Ana's other side, and a face appeared beside hers, peering down her rifle. "—What are you looking at? Is it Secret Sniper Business, or can anyone take a peek?" 

Ana leant aside from the sight to let Tracer peer through it.  

She did. “Gosh, this gun is bloody  _enormous_. I don't know how you even hold it! Well, let's see what—Oh! Keeping a close eye on your daughter, then?”  

 _You could say that_ , Ana thought, and then gestured towards them in the distance. "Tell me, Lena," she asked. "Do you think my Fareeha is sleeping with her doctor?" 

Tracer looked up from the sight, eyes wide. Then, clearly unsure how to handle what Ana had said, she burst into a fit of nervous laughter. "Hah, good one, Cap!" she told her, smacking her arm playfully. "I thought you were serious for a second there!" 

“I am serious.” 

Tracer stopped mid-laugh. “Oh.” She cleared her throat and clearly tried to be serious, as well. “Well, um,” she said, “no, I don’t think they are? My bunk is right under Dr Ziegler's and she's always in it by herself.” She paused. "In fact, she keeps going on and on about how it's nice to not be on call anymore and that people who aren't doctors don't appreciate how precious sleep is, so I'm pretty sure she sleeps there all night." 

Ana considered that for a moment and then peered through the scope again. Tracer was probably right; Fareeha was stealing little sidelong looks at Angela, who was practically _throwing_ herself at the damn girl. Honestly, Fareeha could be so _thick_ sometimes.  

"But if they are, Captain, Dr Ziegler is a top person. I mean really, really nice." 

Ana glanced up at her. "So I should be happy my daughter is with her, if she is?" 

Tracer nodded so earnestly at her that it made Ana chuckle—she hadn't changed at all. And if Tracer was right about 'Dr Ziegler', _she_  hadn't changed at all, either. Ana had always secretly rather liked Angela and hoped her and Fareeha would be friends; maybe Angela's staunch pacifism would rub off on her trigger-happy daughter and they're retire to the suburbs and give her a few grandchildren.   

...but if her stupid daughter insisted on completely and utterly failing to let herself be hit on, that would never happen. It was actually painful for her to watch; and she decided she wasn't going to. Fareeha clearly needed a little push. 

She lowered her rifle for a moment, fishing a sleeping dart out of her cloak.   

Cross-legged beside her, Tracer looked confused. "Wait—what are you doing?" 

Ana fit the dart into her gun. "Giving romance a little helping hand." 

"By _shooting_  her?" 

"There isn't anything that can't be solved by the right bullet," she told Tracer, and then peered through the sight again, lining up the shot. "And if Fareeha suddenly falls unconscious, she's going to need a lot of tests and a lot of gentle, loving care to much sure she's alright." 

Tracer looked _horrified_. As Ana fired, she asked rhetorically, "Why are snipers all so bloody creepy?"  

 

 

 

 


End file.
